How To Save A Life
by i-is-kitty
Summary: War. Blood. Death. They are the only things that Prussia is certain of. You live, you die. That is, until, a Canadian comes along and changes his grim outlook on life.


Gilbert layed in a pool of his own blood. He could feel the familiar warmness surrounding his curled up bony fingers. He could smell it's heavy presence, like death, and the copper taste of it was in his mouth. He thought about how he ended up here, everything that went wrong. Most of it was a painful, hazy memory, with glimpses of blood, destruction and fear. Fear that he had never felt before. Half of it was directed to him and the other was caused by him. Finally, he had escaped from evil's very own clutches, whose blood thirsty being had help Gilbert captive, and had been forcing himself through an endless snow covered terrain. It made him mentally unstable. He wasn't sure which part of the journey was real and which were just a poor attempt at reality that his mind tried to create. At one point he crossed water, but he wasn't sure if he really did or not. There was whole pockets of time that were missing from his memory. He wasn't sure how many hours had passed. A day? A Week? A year? A few blows to the head will do that to you. He remembered feeling slightly relieved to find a deserted beach and a new hope of survival, but was soon greeted by even more snow. He had been walking for what felt like his whole life.

_This is it then. That asshole finally got what he wanted; me dying._ Was his final thought before colapsing in the snow, almost camoflaging against it with his pale white skin and silver hair. His crimson eyes stood out against all the white. There was a small craving from somewhere inside of him to dig around his pockets for a cigarette and lighter, but there was no use. Whichever lucky bastard found his body will be happy.

Gilbert, Prussia, knew that he wouldn't last forever, nothing did. No matter how much power or strength you posses. He knew that one day he would eventually fade into nothingness, become one with the heavens. Even though he was pretty sure he would be going to hell. 'One day the world will miss my awesomeness' he would say. Never for a fleeting moment did he think that that silly statement he said would ever turn into a cruel reality. He never thought that death would come so soon to him, he thought he had more time. He wasn't even sure if countries could even die or what happens when they do, all he knew was that he wasn't going to last very much longer. He wish he got to say goodbye to his brother. He would never admit it but he cared for his younger brother dearly, even if he never showed it. There was milions of things that he could've said, should've said, before heading out that fateful day. Gilbert always told himself that 'everthing happens for a reason'. What a load of crap that turned out to be.

He continued to lay in the snow, waiting for the sweet relief of death to put him out of his misery. He welcommed it. He almost chuckled at the notion of seeing a bright light and the voice of God call upon him whilst angels play harps on a snowy white cloud. Who knows, maybe he'll see Old Fritz again. _This is taking to fucking long._ All he wanted was for that relief, the feeling of pass mistakes and regrets wash away. He was sure that he would freeze to death anytime soon now. Most of his body was already numb. He wasn't even sure if he had a body. Maybe he was already dead and didn't even realize it.

Gilbert could hear footsteps crunching in the snow, coming closer and closer. _This is it. Somebody found me, didn't they? At least it'll end for sure now. What a waste of time... _

Matthew Williams could feel the presence of another country. It was a soft pressing sensation againgst his head, it didn't cause discomfort, unlike most. He didn't have a clue who would be visiting him right now. His best bet would be Francis or maybe even Alfred. He didn't count on it though. He rarley saw them these days. So when Matthew set out in search of the country, he never expected to see a half dead nation that looked otherworldly lying in a pool of his own blood. He vaugley recognized from the World Meetings. He didn't show up often, and seemed a tad egotistical. He was always making snide remarks here and there. His personality always intrugued Matthew.

He was taken aback by the appearnace of this country. The man lying in the snow had short, spikey silver hair. It shone in the bare sunlight. It didn't make him look old, in fact it worked quite well with his extremerly pale skin, almost translucent, that blended in with the surrounding snow. He wore blood stained clothes, with a long black coat. Patches of dried mud and other unknown substances were all over his clothes. Scars and wounds decorated his exposed face and neck, the stroy behind them was written all over his composture. _Whats this guy doing here? He's gonna freeze to death if I don't help him.._ Matthew thought.He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to help the strange man. He looked helpless and almost peacfull.

Gilbert was waiting for that final blow to come, the one that would put an end to his still growing life, but it never did. That sense of relief and freedom never came, he had hoped for a quick death by a shot to the head. At least that way the killer wouldn't have the satisfaction of knowing that their victim suffered. He could sense that someone was very close to him and could hear their steady intakes of breath in contrast to his own forced ones. It felt as if someone was sitting on his chest. He slowly cracked open one heavy eyelid, expecting to see one of his enimies standing over him with a mad expression and eye's like demons. He let out a (manly) yelp of surprise when he saw the face of what he thought was an angel, who was clutching a small polar bear. Maybe he was right, maybe he had already died and was sent to heaven of all places. The man standing before him was the most perfect thing he had ever seen. Not even a million Gilbirds with beer could compete. The man had silky honey blond hair down to his ears, with a single wayward curl sticking out of his head. He wore snow goggles on the top of his head and glasses framed two beautiful lavender eyes. _His eyes..._ They wern't full of hatred and bloodlust. They were calm, happy and a little surpised.

The two were staring at eachother for what seemed like a wonderful eternity, but only seconds passed. Matthew was transfixed by the mans striking red eyes that glowed unlike any ruby that he had ever seen before. No jewels on any royal crown could compete with the red hues. Matthew shifted awkwardly on his feet, breaking the eye contact. "Um, are you alright? I felt someone in my country so I came to see what was going on..." Matthew said in his soft, sweet voice that was almost a whisper. He wanted to know more of this man. He wanted to help him.

Gilbert was surprised that what he thought was an angel, was actually a fellow country. Well, he never really believed it was an angel because he always assumed he would go to hell. Unable to find his voice, he just gave a strained smile and winced in pain. _Why isn't he trying to kill me like all the rest?I have no land, no people... No purpose. What does he want from me?_

Matthew realised that the man was to hurt to speak, so he just smiled kindly and knelt down next to him, placing his polar bear to the side. It let out a small 'who?'. Matthew didn't fear this stranger, he wasn't intimidated like the rest. "I guess your to hurt to move eh? My name is Canada by the way, but you can call me Matthew. Mind tellin' me your name?" Matthew usually never bothered to tell people his name, as they forgot it about two seconds later.

Gilbert was still taken aback by the kindness of the stranger. After years of fighting with enimies who wanted nothing more than his death, Gilbert found it nice to see a smile directed at him. A genuine one, not one out of sheer craziness. _Canada... I swear I've heard that before._ He looked up into the patient eyes, feeling a strange warm sensation spreading through his whole body, bringing feeling back to his arms and legs. He proped himself up on his forearms, getting a better view of Matthew.

"The name is Prussia. But you can call me Gilbert". He grunted out in his thick German accent. His usually loud voice was all but gone. Gilbert tried to conjour up his cocky grin but failed as pain shot through his body. He fell back into the snow with a huff of annoyance. How can you introduce yourself to someone when you can't even be yourself? Matthew rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. "Right. Now lets get you somewhere warm before you freeze to death". He reached down and in one fluid motion picked up Gilbert bridal style.

Gilbert gasped in shock at the Canadian's strengh. He was about to protest about being carried like a baby, but he soon found himself relaxing in his arms. The pair travelled in silence, their thoughts straying to the other. Gilbert was lost in his own world, wondering who Matthew was and found himself hopeing to get to know him better. He was almost glad that he didn't die. "You do realize there is a bird in your hair, right?" He said, looking into two small eyes that were poking out of Gilberts head.

Gilbert patted the top of his head, retrieving the small yellow bird in his calloused hands. "Thank god you're okay, Gilbird." He said, nuzzling the tiny fuzzy chick to his face, forgetting that he was in someone elses presence. Matthew was a little shocked to see Gilbert do somthing so unbelievably..._ cute._ He let out a small chuckle, and Gilbert looked up at him and tried his best not to let red taint his white skin.

"What?" Gilbert raised a silver sleek eyebrow at Matthew.

"Well, it's just that... you don't really seem like the type of guy who's into cute little animals." Matthew said hesitantly, choosing his words carefully. Infact, he wasn't sure what type of guy he was, but he was certain that he liked him. He was relieved to see Gilbert laugh at his response.

"No offense liebling, but you don't look like the type of guy who can lift someone up so easily" Gilbert said, his laughter sounding hoarse and tired.

"Hey, I'm stronger than I look you know. Not many people know that because, well, not many people know me." Matthew said in a sad tone, looking off to the side. Gilbert's laughter immeadiatly stopped.

"What? Really? But you seem like an awesome person. I meen, you haven't even tried to kill me yet..." Gilberts voice trailed off. Everyone he had known, at one point in time, tried to end him. It was an unnavoidable part of life. Gilbert didn't trust anybody, he couldn't afford to.

Matthew stared in shock at what Gilbert had said. "Why would I try to kill you? You're the only person who's ever acknowledged my existance and haven't mistaken me for someone else!" He didn't understand why someone would even want to kill someone like Gilbert.

"I don't know. All people want to do is fight me. I was pretty much made to fight." He said with a sad tone. It was true. Ever since he could remember, he had always been in confilct in one way or another. Whether it be with someone else or himself.

"Oh... Well, if it makes you feel any better, I won't hurt you." Matthew said softly. Gilbert looked up at Matthews kind violet eyes and nodded back at him. It was gold to his ears. He couldn't believe that such a pure and perfect person like Matthew could exsist. Gilbert knew he didn't deserve someone like him. After a few minutes of Matthew carrying Gilbert in comfortable silence, the finally reached Matthew house.

"Are you right to stand?" Matthew asked.

"Ja, of course." Gilbert hopped out of his arms, landing on his feet with a large grin. Matthew rolled his eyes and fished out his house keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. He held the door open for Gilbert.

Gilbert hesitated for a minute. "I don't know if this a good idea..." Hid mood shifted suddenly to one of unease. He stood there a little awkwardly with his bruised hands stuffed into the depths of his coat pockets, his red eyes suddenly focused on his black boots. Gilbert thought that it was best for Matthew if he left. The last thing he wanted was to cause any kind of harm to someone who showed him such kindness and gave him feeling again. He wasn't good enough for Matthew and besides, who knew how much time he had left... As much as it pained Gilbert, he couldn't spend another minute knowing that he may hurt Matthew.

Matthew looked at the Prussian, once again taking in his appearance. He looked lost, he looked alone and he looked scared. Matthew took a step forward, closing the gap between the two of them by placing his arms on Gilbert's shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"Gilbert..." Matthew said softley. "What are you afraid of?"

Matthew's eyes gazed into Gilbert's red orbs, staring into his soul. Gilbert had looked in the eyes of many before. There was Ludwig's cold blue stare, Roderich's codesending look of dissaprovel and Elizaveta's green courageous gaze. None of them, however, compared to Matthews. They were imprinted on his mind, never to be erased, not the he wanted it to be.

"I'm..." Gilbert started to say, "I'm afraid of dying, Matthew. I'm afraid that if I just let go I'll never be able to return. I'm afraid that everything that I've done in my life, every war, every moment of victory, has been a pointless waste of time." He scolded himself mentally for showing weakness, for appearing vulnerable in anothers eyes. Nobody had ever seen this side of Gilbert apart from his own brother, but he was glad that Matthew was the first. For some reason, he felt like he could trust him. It was the first time that Gilbert felt any type of connection with another. It was something he didn't want to let go of and he hoped that it would develope into somthing more. "I'm afraid of being forgotten." Gilbert whispered in a hoarse voice.

_Aren't we all... _Matthew thought to himself, feeling the pain of sympathy strike him in the chest. He couldn't recall the last time that someone had opened up to him like that or had reached out to him. He didn't realize that Gilbert was crying untill he noticed a single tear run down his pale, sharp features and land on his sleeve. It was disturbing to see a country like Prussia, someone who has lived through pain and fear and still made it out alive, someone as strong both mentally and physically as Gilbert to break down like that. Matthew couldn't stand to see such pain was across Gilbert's face and the depth of his eyes show so much more than what he let on. He closed the gap between them, engulfing Gilbert, who let out a small squeak of surprise, in a tight embrace, bringing them as close as possible. Even through the tattered and stained fabric that Gilbert wore, Matthew could feel the coldness of his pale skin. He cold feel the strained muscle which faced years of hardships return the hug. A strange warm feeling spread through Gilberts chest, setting fire to what he thought had been long dead. He didn't want to ever let go.

Matthew buried his head at the crook of Gilbert's neck, breathing in his scent. "I'll never forget you." He whispered more to himself than anyone else.

"_Danke." _

Gilbert was gone. Matthew's arms became empty. All that was left was his blood-stainded clothes. Matthew's whole being shook, he had fallen to his knee's clutching at the brutal hollow feeling that Gilbert had left in his wake. His screams echoed through his own mind, the all to real memory of Gilbert dying replying over and over. Matthew was too late. He was gone.


End file.
